Bound and Gagged
by PepSquee777
Summary: He's been missing for a very long time, and we can't help but wonder why.
1. Prologue

**_AN: _**_Ah, man. I would've uploaded this a lot sooner but I went to go see my new-born baby sister (she was born today, say length and weight as me-creepy, eh?). She looked like a gremlin. XD But, enough excuses. Back to buisness.  
>O<em>_kay, okay, I know it's probably been a while since anyone saw an actual PepSquee story, and that's okay (I don't even expect anyone to read this, since PepSquee appears to have gone out of "fashion", per say), but keep in mind that this is not HARDCORE MAN LOVINGS. I'll write that some other time. This is instead age-appropriate, sometime-after-the-comic PepitoxSquee. Though, for mature themes, such as rape, kidnap, violence, and possible swear words, this will indeed be labelled 'M'. Enough of my shittery. Let's get this party stared, shall we?  
><em>

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><p><strong>Bound<strong> **and ****Gagged**

**Prologue: ****Pepito  
><strong>  
>He's gone.<p>

The violet sky of dusk hangs lifeless over the cold, frozen landscape as I sit perched in this tree, wondering if he will ever be home again. The tree is dead—leafless and craggly with stale wood and long branches like arms; a sad sight, all in all. That is the reason that I have chosen it as my waiting seat, for it is sad and as am I.

I come and I sit on my delicate branch all day, everyday; waiting…and waiting…and waiting… In rain, sleet, or snow, you will find me here, waiting for his return.

In this rain, sleet, and snow, however, my mother protests. "Come inside!" She pleads. "I can make you hot chocolate, and we'll cuddle up on the couch!"

But that sounds too happy to me. I rather like hot chocolate and cuddling up on the couch with Mommy. And why should I go about, happy and warm, when I've not an idea if he's happy and warm as well? And, though I refuse, my stubborn mother has brought me a mug of hot chocolate; though mostly just to keep my little hands warm. No longer do I feel the warmth of plaster on my gloved hands, so I drop the mug to the ground, hearing the soft _'__crnch__'_as it hits the thick blanket of snow below.

He's been gone for so long. I can't help but wonder why—why I've sat perched in my tree for so long.

Though, I wonder a lot of things up here in my tree; Is he okay? Where is he? What is he doing? What is he thinking? Is he scared, happy content, horrified, etc? But, out of everything, I have to wonder _why_.

Everyone else does, too, it seems.

Though, people often ask themselves that very same question multiple times within their pathetic lives. And many times have we all wondered the same simple question in the days following his disappearance.

The last drop of twilight slowly slides with the sun and below the horizon line; thus, I am swallowed in darkness.

With a small sigh, I hop from my tree to the thick blanket of snow and land with ease. The sound of the icy ground crunching beneath my feet is a comforting one.

I dig the cold mug from its place in the snow after seeing that it has sunk a bit in the slushy winter and start on my way to the house. Hopefully, mother won't (will) be worried about me being out so late. I know how she gets, but she's my Mommy—it's her job.

Maybe, when I get home, I shall allow myself another small cup of hot chocolate. Perhaps I'll even curl up next to Mommy on the couch to watch a movie together. After all, I can't go _too_far into my depression. I need to stay strong, so I might find him.

And, as I see my lovely abode in the distance through the thick darkness of the night's new moon, I can't help but wonder but one more thing…

_Where __in __the __world __is __little __Todd __Casil?  
><em>

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><p><em>I swear that the actual chapters will be much longer, and much better than this peice of crap. 3 Enjoy this as much as you can, though, I suppose. :D See you next time!<em>


	2. Chapter One

**Bound and Gagged******

**Chapter One: Searching**

He's helping me search, my father. In the basement, looking through a flurry of souls, we have yet to find the one we want—the one _I_need. We have shuffled through the contents of the Earth for my best friend's (well, my only friend's) soul what feels like a thousand times, but still, we have yet to find him.

And I know that Squee _does__indeed_ have a soul; the purest in fact! The rarest, sweetest, loveliest soul—I couldn't be more jealous. Though, at the same time, I couldn't be more pleased. My dearest Todd has shown me that not _all_of Earth's inhabitants are simply a waste, and in fact, there are those worth it…

I miss him. I miss him so much.

If only I knew. I'd give _anything_to know, at this moment, where he is, if he is well…

"Son," says Daddy, breaking me from my reverie. "I'm afraid I just cannot find him."

My chest aches. Imaginary spiders crawl along my skin and my throat feels tight, as though I've been simply tying my own noose this whole time. I don't remember ever feeling like this before now. I do not like it. But it grows stronger as I try to fight it away, and now I'm shaking; a furious quake jarring me from the inside out.

I…do not understand.

But Daddy seems to. He scoops me up in his arms, sighing, and hugs me close like mother does. And I greedily squeeze him closer, craving comfort—a natural reaction to this horrid feeling. He rocks side to side, smoothing my hair. I don't remember Father ever doing this, though according to pictures that Mother has taken, he did when I was just a sick little baby—which I will explain at a better time.

He shushes me and I sniffle, feeling my damp cheeks with my clawed fingertips. What is this? What are these forked rivers flowing from my eyes; falling from my chin in the smallest of water falls?

I have not heard my father croon to me in a very long time. "_Shhh_. Don't cry, little one. Daddy's here, Daddy's here." But, I feel…safe…hearing him like this again. He's so gentle, so caring... _Hmph_. I'd nearly forgotten that Daddy loves me. And, feeling his long fingers stroke soothing circles across my back, I am content to be reminded.

As my cheeks dry, I listen to his words of comfort.

"We will find him, son; just not this way."

I but nod into his shoulder, much too exhausted* to make a coherent verbal answer.

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><p>The man that my precious Todd used to live by—Johnny; the wastelock—seems to miss dear Squee just as much as me. It surprises me so, to know that there really is another person that's out there, searching, and waiting. I thought I might have just been the only one that really, truly cared. It appears I was wrong; and for the first time, I am glad to be mistaken.<p>

Together, we search, and indeed we make quite the endeavor. Still, he is yet to return, just as I am yet to be consoled.

I get migraines from all the stress. I'm only six—_six __—_but I feel more and more like I'm in my mid-fifties every day. My heart hurts—all the time. My eyes are itching constantly and are much more moist than I remember them ever being. I do not like it. At all. I want nothing more than for him to be home, to be safe, so that I will no longer worry; no longer keep myself up at night with images, nightmares of cold, lifeless caramel eyes; no longer wonder _why_. I'm sure he's wondering why, too, wherever he may be.

"Pepito…" My mother's voice comes to me as I lay emotionlessly on the floor, exhausted. I've yet to sleep since the last time (which, if you really must know, was a month or two ago), and I do not plan to now. "Pepi, I have good news…"

Her tone is gentle, as it always is. And I know why; she knows exactly what will set me off. That last thing she'd just said, in fact, had set me off quite nicely.

"'Good news'? _'__Good_news'! What good news might you have, Mother? He is gone—I am starting to think he always will be."

I open my eyes to see her standing above me, smiling slightly. Her small, silver cross charm dangles and sways from its chain like a pendulum, and, as thought her words weren't aggravating enough, it is mighty annoying. I glare at I as she replies, "Oh, not always, you silly goose! Come on."

I sigh, not comprehending why she would be so happy, so hopeful. We'd been searching for a solid six months now. _Solid. Six. Months. _Any confindence of mine had slowly crashed and burned.

But, behind her stands an equally cheerful-looking Johnny C. And this waste-lock in particular was never quite happy, lest his present moment include a cherry Brain Freezie, his dear head voice of reason, or the squeeing boy that lived next door to him.

And on that note, I take my mother's hand. 

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><p>*Well, he <em>has<em> been searching, without rest, for quite the while.

_AN: OH GAWSH OH GAWSH OH GAWSH FOUR REVIEWS FOUR REVIEWS FOUR REVIEWS! And that's just on the PROLOGUE! A simple TEASER CHAPTER! GAWSH I LOVE YOU GUYS!_

_To you, I give magical cookies baked individually by hand, forged in the (stove) fires of...eh...KENTUCKY. Yeah. 3 GAWSH I LOVE YOU ALL._

_And UPDATE SCHEDULE: I'm thinkin' that, once I start gettin' into some real shizz, once a Monday. :P Buuuut, I can't say for certain just yet, FOR I SUCK AT WRITING QUICKLY. Ugh, I already haven't updated in what, a week and a day? (I SUCK) But, hey, I've got two sisters, an annoying female doh, and a loud, angry mother. A HOUSE FULL OF CHICKS. DX It's hard to write, being the "man" of the house. Siiiiigh. *dramatic, woe-is-me pose* But, yeah. I'll post ya'lls shit up once a week, if I can. :D _


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